A Regimental Affair

* * *

The estimate proved right. A little after six o’clock the warning sentries began reporting that the videttes were circling. The pickets stood to, the relays brought the intelligence to Hervey’s flag post, and a galloper set off to the notional army headquarters with a first-sighting report at twenty-two minutes past the hour. Later the inspecting staff would compare timings thoroughly, but Major Jago was already noting in his pocketbook that reports arrived with impressive speed and were handled with confidence and despatch. Hervey’s orders to the contact troop were that videttes should fall back on the warning sentries when the enemy came within carbine range (for to remain any longer risked a ball in the back on retiring), and there form a second vidette line while the sentries fell back on the pickets. The pickets would engage the enemy’s scouts, only withdrawing if the advance guards came up in force, by which time the videttes and warning sentries would have taken post on the new observing line behind. These lines Hervey had carefully chosen from the map and confirmed from the saddle with his two troop officers, and, because they had practised the manoeuvres the week before, he was sure they would be able to keep close track of the regiment during its passage of the common — greatly outnumbered though his troop was.

It had taken the firmest resolve on Hervey’s part not to be drawn forward himself. His every instinct was to get a sight of the enemy, and he had thought long about placing himself with Corporal Sykes’s picket. But the best place for a commander, Joseph Edmonds had always said, was where he could best command from. And with videttes and pickets thrown across the most part of a mile of bosky heathland, that place was at the apex of a triangle which allowed reports to come almost as quickly from the flanks as from the centre line. Heavens, it was frustrating though, especially when shots began ringing out along the front. But he knew he could trust his corporals not to allow their pickets to be overrun. What about the flanks, though? Hervey knew that if this were real battle he could expect to count on squadrons abreast of him, but on this scheme there were none. This did not matter, the inspecting officer had said, because the regiment would not be allowed to stray outside its boundaries. What would happen at night, though, or with the dawn’s mist? The enemy could stray, intentionally or not, and Hervey’s flank pickets would have the devil of a job. At night or in mist, keeping station with the observing line two or three furlongs to the front would take the greatest address, too (on his own scheme the week before, his flanks had been easily turned). He had therefore insisted on two of the most experienced NCOs being put to the task. But still he was unquiet.

Hervey now determined to employ observers behind the enemy’s line, as the duke himself had employed them in Spain. The trouble was that he had scarcely men enough for the vidette and picket lines, so he decided to take a gamble by detailing Serjeant Armstrong to the task. This was a costly wager, for he had wanted to place Armstrong at the rally point instead, behind the notional line of infantry two leagues to the rear, where the troop would reunite and be revived, ready for what the inspecting officer might order them to do next. Serjeant-Major Kendall, Hervey feared, was not up to seeing to a rally point by day, let alone by night, but Armstrong behind the enemy was a premium he felt unable to default on. There was nothing for it, then, but to trust the rally point to the troop serjeant-major. That Kendall had botched it on last week’s scheme was a worry, but was not that the purpose of the exercise — that shortcomings could be rectified before today?

At eleven it had been dark for three hours, and the action was still going well. The good moon was working in A Troop’s favour, aiding both detection of the enemy and fast movement by the relays. Major Jago’s own observers were reporting that the picket line continued to retire steadily but without penetration, while from Hervey’s own dragoons there was a continual flow of intelligence on the enemy’s progress. There had been a lull in the last quarter of an hour, though, and Hervey was beginning to get anxious that something was amiss. Major Jago had pressed him for his assessment, and he had had to admit the possibility that the enemy might have trickled through his line here and there: after all, they were hardly greenheads. But it was also true that by now the regiment had been advancing for six hours — tiring for both men and horses, perhaps more so than withdrawing in the face of that advance. Might it be the short halt, then, suggested Hervey: saddles fast, bridles off and nosebags on, and water from the Runnymede ponds where the last reports said the advance guards had reached?

Major Jago had smiled appreciatively on hearing the assessment, and said he would leave him to his own devices for a while.

‘Sir,’ whispered Johnson as he came into the old pannage hut which now served as Hervey’s command post.

Hervey thought it strange he should be whispering with quite so much effort.

‘Sir,’ he repeated, and with some insistence, gesturing towards the door.

The lantern was bright enough to read a map by, but it only cast shadows across Johnson’s face, and Hervey could not make out what it was he wanted. The door scraped open, and Hervey shot to his feet at the sight of the general officer’s cloak.

‘You did say I might share your bivouac,’ said Henrietta, pulling off the Tarleton and smiling wide.

‘What in heaven’s name are you doing here?’ gasped Hervey. ‘Where did you get that cloak? And those plumes! How did you get here?’ He was about to ask a dozen more questions when she stopped him with a kiss. He glanced awkwardly at Johnson, who was making a show of looking the other way.

Henrietta, still smiling, began to rearrange her hair, as if nothing were more normal.

Hervey glanced anxiously at the door. The last thing he needed was to have the inspecting officer find dalliance instead of alertness. ‘My dear, we are in the middle of a battle—’

‘What are you doing in a hut, then?’

‘Well, we are—’ He realized the absurdity of trying to explain. ‘Johnson, would you—’

‘Ay, sir,’ replied his groom. No need to spell it out — sentry duty, the other side of the door. He allowed himself a grin as he squeezed through, and Henrietta grinned back.

When the door was pulled shut she kissed him again, but longer. Hervey pulled open her cloak and slipped his arms around her. ‘What—’

She kissed him again. ‘I couldn’t very well ride in a skirt!’

He was too nervous of discovery to be shocked. Whose breeches they were he simply could not imagine, and in truth he didn’t much care, for she filled them very handsomely.

‘Don’t pretend you disapprove. Didn’t the Queen of Scots ride like this?’

Hervey shook his head in half-despair.

‘I am very tired.’ She smiled.

‘I am not surprised!’

‘Where shall you lie down tonight?’

He shook his head again. He would dearly like to lie down this very instant, to put out the lantern and trust to Johnson’s vigilance. ‘I cannot lie down for a minute! The enemy could be close by us even now!’

‘Well,’ said Henrietta. ‘A cavalry bivouac is a chaster place than ever I have heard of. And very dull!’

‘Does anyone know you’re here? Who brought you?’

She gave a little laugh. ‘The regiment was so taken up with getting itself to Chobham I just followed them. No one seemed to notice me.’

How that could be so, he simply couldn’t conceive. ‘But how then did you find me?’

‘When we got to Egham there were a great many spectators. And all the regiment were telling them what they were about to do.’

Hervey shook his head. A dragoon loved to share his secrets.

‘And I heard one of the officers saying that he was off to give you a surprise.’

‘What did he mean, I wonder?’

‘I don’t know, but about twenty of them left soon afterwards and so I followed them hoping to see you.’

‘And then?’

‘Well, at length they just turned into an inn yard, and the officer said they were to stay there until night.’

‘Where was this?’ Hervey began to feel anxious again.

Henrietta look puzzled. ‘The Plough at Addlestone, I think it was. I rode on a little way, hoping to find you, but I became quite lost. And then an officer from another regiment happened by, and he seemed to know exactly where you were, and he brought me here.’